On Seneca, de Beneficiis, Books 1-2

On Seneca, de Beneficiis, Books 1-2 March 23, 2006

Seneca suggests that ingratitude is the worst of vices, and nothing is more “harmful to society” than ingratitude (I.1). Later in Book I, he lists a series of moral ills that plague society – “homicides, tyrants, thieves, adulterers, ravishers, sacrilegious, traitors” – but concludes that “worse than all these is the ungrateful man” (I.10). The only things that might be worse are the crimes that flow from ingratitude, “without which hardly any great wickedness has ever grown to full stature” (I.10).


Near the beginning of his treatise, Seneca makes the observation that benefits can be given in such a way as to make the recipient more ungrateful. One problem, the one that he isolates at the beginning of the treatise, is the failure to choose recipients with care, like the farmer who sows seed in “a worn-out or unfruitful soil” and “without any discrimination we scatter our benefits at random rather than bestow them” (I.1). Bestowal, then, is not merely a transfer of property from one hand to another, but a conscious and thoughtful act, considering the recipient’s character, the timing, the nature of the benefit, and so on. But we can also increase ingratitude by benefaction if we give benefits unwillingly: “no one is glad to owe what he has not so much received from his benefactor, as wrung out of him” (I.1). The attitude expressed in bestowing the benefit is mirrored in the attitude of the recipient; if given carelessly, it will be received carelessly; if given after a long delay, it will be received as an unwilling benefit and the recipient will respond accordingly.

Yet, the possibility of ingratitude should not deter generosity. Seneca gives two principle reasons for continuing to give even when there is the possibility, even probability, that some of the recipients of our benefits will be ungrateful. First, generosity can soften and improve a person – as kindness to a wild animal makes the animal docile (I.2). Second, in giving without expectation of return we are conforming our generosity to the generosity of the gods. Benefits should be bestowed, “not put . . . out at interest” (I.1). The man who refuses to give because he does not expect a return is justifying ingratitude, since he is making the gift dependent on return, as the ungrateful man does not return when he able to do so. The virtue of generosity is manifested in “bestowing benefits for which we are not certain of meeting with any return, but whose fruit is at once enjoyed by noble minds” (I.1). We should bestow carefully, but also recognizing that we will bestow gifts on the unworthy; but one well-bestowed gift makes amends for many ill-considered gifts (I.2). If we believe that benefits bestowed are wasted, then they are; but if we give in spite of having no return, we “force out gratitude” from even “a hard and forgetful beast” (I.3). Note the connection of benefit, gratitude, and memory, a link that Seneca returns to later.

Seneca offers this delightful allegory of the Three Graces (I.3): “What is the meaning of this dance of sisters in a circle, hand in hand? It means that the course of a benefit is from hand to hand, back to the giver; that the beauty of the whole chain is lost if a single link fails, and that it is fairest when it proceeds in unbroken regular order. In the dance there is one esteemed beyond the others, who represents the givers of benefits. Their faces are cheerful, as those of men who give or receive benefits are wont to be. They are young, because the memory of benefits ought not to grow old. They are virgins, because benefits are pure and untainted, and held holy by all; in benefits there should be no strict or binding conditions, therefore the Graces wear loose flowing tunics, which are transparent, because benefits love to be seen.” Note that the circle of benefits leads back to the giver of benefits. And note too that Seneca assumes gifts are given to be known as given, given to be seen of men. This raises an issue that will come up later, namely, the motivation behind benefaction.

Seneca claims that benefits are “the chief bond of human society” (I.4). Comparison might be made to Paul’s treatment of the body of Christ, united by the Spirit (who gives abundantly without reproach, and no need for return) and also by the mutual benefaction of the members of the body, who bestow benefits from the Spirit to one another in the form of charisma (Rom 12; 1 Cor 12; Eph 4). For Seneca, benefits must steer between careless openhandedness and a circumspection that kills generosity (I.4). Training in giving and receiving gifts must aim not only at equally but at surpassing the gift, “both in good offices and in good feeling” (I.4). Seneca does not explain why the recipient must aim to surpass the original gift in his response; Aquinas will later explain this by reference to the gratuity of gifts in general: The original gift is not a response to any prior gift, and thus has a gratuitous character; if the return gift is to be just, it must have a gratuitous character as well. But since the return gift is a response to a prior gift, the gratuity cannot arise from the “unmotivated” character of the return gift, but must instead be manifest in the surplus of value in the return gift.

Seneca makes the crucial claim that a benefit is something “which exists only in the mind,” and distinguishes between the sign of kindness/ the kindness itself, the subject-matter of the benefit / the benefit itself, the good will expressed in a gift/ the actual gift bestowed (I.5). The wise recognize this distinction but the ignorant do not. The benefit is a “means” for manifesting kindly feeling. Thus gift-giving is bound up with the signum-res contrast that is so important for the architecture of Western thought, including Christian thought. Why does the benefit reside in the mind only? For Seneca, the reason is that the subject-matter, sign, or literal gift is transitory and can be lost. But he wants to say that losing the matter of a benefit does not deprive one of the benefit itself: “a kindness lasts even after the loss of that by means of which it was bestowed; for it is a good deed, which no violence can undo” (I.5). Presumably, this is partly intended to emphasize that gratitude and obligation do not evaporate when the gift itself is gone.

He offers several examples that illustrate the difference between receiving a benefit and continuing in the enjoyment of that benefit: “suppose that I ransomed a friend from pirates, but another pirate has caught him and thrown him into prison. The pirate has not robbed him of my benefit, but has only robbed him of the enjoyment of it. Or suppose that I have saved a man’s children from a shipwreck or a fire, and that afterwards disease or accident has carried them off; even when they are no more, the kindness which was done by means of them remains. All those things, therefore, which improperly assume the name of benefits, are means by which kindly feeling manifests itself. In other cases also, we find a distinction between the visible symbol and the matter itself, as when a general bestows collars of gold, or civic or mural crowns upon any one. What value has the crown in itself? or the purple-bordered robe? or the fasces? or the judgment-seat and car of triumph? None of these things is in itself an honour, but is an emblem of honour” (I.5).

Later, he argues that “the actual thing itself is not of much importance, because it is not regarded as a benefit at all, if you do good when you intended to do evil; in such a case the benefit is done by chance, the man did harm” (II.19). That is, benefits must be intended as benefits to be such. Further, he argues that a forced benefit is no benefit, since to be a tru

e benefit the giver must first grant the recipient the power of choice: “you must first give me personal freedom of decision, and then your benefit” (II.19).

Seneca defines a benefit as follows: It is a) the art of doing a kindness that b) gives pleasure and c) gains pleasure by bestowing it d) out of “natural and spontaneous impulse” (I.6).
Given this definition, Seneca believes that the actual thing bestowed is morally neutral, and the value of the benefit comes from “the spirit in which it is done or given” rather than in “the thing which is done or given” (I.6). The giver bestows the value of the benefit upon it, specifically the “mind of the doer or giver” (I.6): “while a benefit is necessarily good, yet that which is done or given is neither good nor bad. The spirit in which they are given can exalt small things, can glorify mean ones, and can discredit great and precious ones; the objects
themselves which are sought after have a neutral nature, neither good nor bad; all depends upon the direction given them by the guiding spirit from which things receive their shape” (I.6). He employs a religious analogy: The honor paid to the gods does not come from the victim we offer on the altar, but from the “pure and holy feelings of the worshippers” (I.6).

The “artistic” dimension of this is worth noting. An artist aims at several things when he makes a work of art: “there is the consciousness of having made it, which he receives when his work is completed; there is the fame which he receives; and thirdly, the advantage which he obtains by it, in influence, or by selling it, or otherwise” (II.33). Similarly, a benefactor gains consciousness of a benefit, receives credit for doing it, and also might receive a return gift. This means also that when a gift has been received with grace and good cheer, the giver has received gratitude in return, and though the benefactress continues to be obligated to repay when he has opportunity, in a sense repayment has been made (II.33, 35).

Now, this raises a whole series of questions. It is true that different people might have different responses to the same object. And that seems to detach the benefit itself from the thing given – the benefit being the goodwill expressed in the gift. And Seneca is right to want to preserve the obligation of gratitude for things that are no longer present. But Seneca’s method of doing this does not seem necessary. He seems to be assuming that the beneficiary needs to have the benefit in present possession if he is going to be grateful for the benefit (even if he does not have the present enjoyment of the benefit). But that doesn’t seem necessary at all; I can be grateful for a benefit bestowed yesterday, even though the benefit itself (a ham sandwich, say) is long gone. The memory of the benefit is sufficient ground for obligation, without having to say that the benefit itself must be present. Seneca’s claim that things themselves are neutral, and receive their valuation as benefits only from the mind of the giver, is far more problematic. Seneca makes the claim absolutely, speaking of benefits “only” in the mind and emphasizing the “great distinction” between sign and thing. But this surely cannot be sustained. When I leave a horse head at my neighbor’s door, my intentions don’t matter – it’s not going to be received as a gift, a benefit.

It’s true that what is a blessing for one person might be a curse for another, but that doesn’t mean that the value is only located in the mind of either the giver or the receiver. Rather, it’s precisely the character of the thing given that makes it a blessing or a curse. Suppose I have a deep bitterness toward potted plants, which are associated in my mind with various kinds of childhood traumas and my parents’ bizarre methods of discipline. If given a potted plant as a gift, I will react with horror. That is surely subjective – it depends on my own experience and memory. But it’s the specific potted-plantedness of the potted plant that arouses my horror. Seneca will later emphasize that a thoughtful bestowal involves careful attention to the character and circumstances of the recipient (I.12), but the founding emphasis on the neutrality of benefits weakens that later affirmation.

Seneca divides the types of benefits into three groups: 1) Necessary benefits, those that we cannot live without; 2) useful benefits, those without which life is hardly worth living; and 3) pleasant benefits, those that are dear because of connection and long use and custom (I.11). The organization of this section is somewhat obscure; it’s not clear where he ends a discussion of one issue and begins a discussion of another. Here’s my best reading: As examples of the first category, Seneca lists liberty and deliverance from the various perils that threaten life. Among the useful benefits are liberty, chastity, and a good conscience. We can maintain existence without these useful benefits, but we cannot live a full human life, a moral human life. Money, office, and advancement are also useful benefits, though these must be enjoyed in moderation lest they corrupt the recipient. Finally, pleasant gifts are those that are superfluous, that meet no need or use. It’s particularly in connection with this last category that Seneca emphasizes the need for a benefactor to attend to the character of the recipient. Giving books to an illiterate man is inappropriate, as are hunting weapons to a woman (I.11). Benefits should also not “insultingly remind our friends of their failings” (I.11). Timing of a gift is also an essential element of wise bestowal of benefits, apparently especially those benefits that are for pleasure.

Seneca claims that it is better to give gifts that are permanent than consumables, because a permanent gift remains to remind the recipient of the benefit (I.11-12). The gift is an aid to memory, and “even the ungrateful remember us by our gifts, when they are always in their sight and do not allow themselves to be forgotten” (I.12). The presence of the gift is the presence of the giver. It is gauche to remind a beneficiary of our benefits to them; we should leave that work to the good itself. This gives us some hint of what motivates the giver for Seneca. As he says, “I am no advocate of slackness in giving benefits: the more and the greater they are, the more praise they will bring to the giver” (I.15). Gifts are made to be known and seen, especially by the recipient, and are given to bring praise to the giver. This at least is one of the motivations behind benefaction.

But this is not the deepest of Seneca’s motives for giving, and in fact he cancels out this motive later. We should give quickly, even anticipating what our friends are going to ask for, so as not to put them through the shame of asking (II.1-2). And this is based on the assumption that the sweetest part of a benefit is the kindness of the giver (II.1). The ultimate approval for the gift is not from the praise we get, but from the approval of our own conscience – that at least is the wise man’s motivation for giving (II.10). Because the conscience is the court of approval, it is not necessary for gifts to be bestowed publicly – on the contrary, it is often best to ensure that benefits are given privately, so as not to shame the recipient and cause him pain. It is always wrong to remind the recipient of the benefit bestowed, which turns the benefit into a loan or some other kind of transaction. The “first and most essential rule” of benefits is: “never to reproach a man with what you have done for him, and not even to remind him of it. The rule for the giver and the receiver of a benefit is, that the one should straightway forget what he has given, the othe
r should never forget that he has received it” (II.10). Further, “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” (II.17). In this, Seneca exactly reverses the attitude of Aristotle’s magnanimous man.

Further, benefits should have a goal in view, the goal of actually benefiting the recipient. Seneca cautions against bowing to the pressure of entreaty; the fact that someone passionately desires something does not mean it would necessarily be a benefit to him (II.14). A good man gives only what is genuinely beneficial to the recipient, considering the usefulness of the gift and not merely the desire of the person who receives it. There is a double aim: to be of service and to gain the pleasure of doing good. A truly generous man wants nothing in return, even thanks: “If he does what he wishes, if his purpose reaches me and fills us each with joy, he has gained his object. He does not wish anything to be given to him in return, or else it becomes an exchange of commodities, not a bestowal of benefits” (II.31).

At the same time, the giver should not give in a way that exposes him to shame. He should not impoverish himself by seeking to help others, or kill himself in his efforts to save another life (II.15). Seneca provides an interesting contrast to Christian ethics, which arise from the shameful self-sacrifice of Jesus, His willingness to endure exposure and shame for our benefit.

The causes of ingratitude are three: Pride, greed, and jealousy. A proud man thinks he deserves more than he got, and is always calculating whether the benefit matches his deserts. A greedy man is always looking for more, and never satisfied with whatever benefits he has. Jealousy is the worst of the three, inciting men to compare their own benefits with benefits bestowed on others (II.26-28). Some even show ingratitude toward the gods, because the gods have not bestowed on man the qualities they bestowed on animals (II.29).

Several other issues arise in Book II. First, Seneca urges people to choose creditors carefully, as carefully as they do debtors, since receiving a benefit from an unworthy man might obligate you in ways you want to avoid. Second, Seneca develops the fairly obvious point that a forced benefit is no benefit at all (II.18). If someone accidentally aids me, against my will, I owe no gratitude. Third, Seneca draws intriguing connections between friendship and gratitude, arguing that friendship “arises” from gratitude, and in the same context suggesting that gratitude-benefit is a “most holy bond” (II.18). Finally, Seneca interestingly distinguishes between benefits that are actions and benefits that are objects. The first obligates the recipient to goodwill in return, while a material benefit requires a material return.

The key difference here between Seneca and the NT is not that the NT teaches us to renounce rewards, to avoid being seen entirely. The key difference is that the NT introduces a transcendent heavenly reward and teaches us that we give and receive in the sight of our heavenly Father who sees in secret. The NT (as CS Lewis wonderfully points out) does teach us to hope for praise, for “fame” and reputation; but the NT teaches us to hope for praise from our Father, for the “well done” from our heavenly Lord.


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