L. Annaeus Seneca On Benefits | Page 7

a benefit. It follows from this that benefits
are badly invested, and become bad debts: in these cases it is too late to
complain of their not being returned, for they were thrown away when
we bestowed them. Nor need we wonder that while the greatest vices
are common, none is more common than ingratitude: for this I see is
brought about by various causes. The first of these is, that we do not
choose worthy persons upon whom to bestow our bounty, but although
when we are about to lend money we first make a careful enquiry into
the means and habits of life of our debtor, and avoid sowing seed in a
worn-out or unfruitful soil, yet without any discrimination we scatter
our benefits at random rather than bestow them. It is hard to say
whether it is more dishonourable for the receiver to disown a benefit, or
for the giver to demand a return of it: for a benefit is a loan, the
repayment of which depends merely upon the good feeling of the
debtor. To misuse a benefit like a spendthrift is most shameful, because
we do not need our wealth but only our intention to set us free from the
obligation of it; for a benefit is repaid by being acknowledged. Yet
while they are to blame who do not even show so much gratitude as to
acknowledge their debt, we ourselves are to blame no less. We find
many men ungrateful, yet we make more men so, because at one time
we harshly and reproachfully demand some return for our bounty, at
another we are fickle and regret what we have given, at another we are
peevish and apt to find fault with trifles. By acting thus we destroy all
sense of gratitude, not only after we have given anything, but while we
are in the act of giving it. Who has ever thought it enough to be asked
for anything in an off-hand manner, or to be asked only once? Who,
when he suspected that he was going to be asked for any thing, has not
frowned, turned away his face, pretended to be busy, or purposely
talked without ceasing, in order not to give his suitor a chance of
preferring his request, and avoided by various tricks having to help his
friend in his pressing need? and when driven into a corner, has not
either put the matter off, that is, given a cowardly refusal, or promised

his help ungraciously, with a wry face, and with unkind words, of
which he seemed to grudge the utterance. Yet no one is glad to owe
what he has not so much received from his benefactor, as wrung out of
him. Who can be grateful for what has been disdainfully flung to him,
or angrily cast at him, or been given him out of weariness, to avoid
further trouble? No one need expect any return from those whom he
has tired out with delays, or sickened with expectation. A benefit is
received in the same temper in which it is given, and ought not,
therefore, to be given carelessly, for a man thanks himself for that
which he receives without the knowledge of the giver. Neither ought
we to give after long delay, because in all good offices the will of the
giver counts for much, and he who gives tardily must long have been
unwilling to give at all. Nor, assuredly, ought we to give in offensive
manner, because human nature is so constituted that insults sink deeper
than kindnesses; the remembrance of the latter soon passes away, while
that of the former is treasured in the memory; so what can a man expect
who insults while he obliges? All the gratitude which he deserves is to
be forgiven for helping us. On the other hand, the number of the
ungrateful ought not to deter us from earning men's gratitude; for, in
the first place, their number is increased by our own acts. Secondly, the
sacrilege and indifference to religion of some men does not prevent
even the immortal gods from continuing to shower their benefits upon
us: for they act according to their divine nature and help all alike,
among them even those who so ill appreciate their bounty. Let us take
them for our guides as far as the weakness of our mortal nature permits;
let us bestow benefits, not put them out at interest. The man who while
he gives thinks of what he will get in return, deserves to be deceived.
But what if the benefit turns out ill? Why, our wives and our children
often disappoint our hopes, yet we marry--and bring up children, and
are so obstinate in the face of experience that we fight after we have
been