n.
The most welcome benefits are those which are at hand for the taking,
which come to meet us, where the one delay lies in the recipient's
modesty.

The best course is to forestall a man's wishes; next best, to follow
them. He who has got after asking, has not secured the favour for
nothing; since nothing costs so much as that which is bought by prayers.
"I beg you" is a painful phrase; it is irksome, and has to be said with
humble looks. Spare your friend, spare anyone you hope to make your
friend, this necessity. However prompt, a benefactor gives too late
when he gives by request.

All philosophers counsel that some benefits be given in public (like
military decorations), others in secret (like those that succour
weakness, want, or disgrace). Sometimes the very person helped must be
deceived into taking our bounty without knowing its origin. One may
insist, "I wish him to know"; but on that principle will you refuse to
save a man's life in the dark? Why should I not abstain from showing him
that I have given him anything, when it is one of the cardinal rules
never to reproach a man with what you have done for him, and not even to
remind him of it? For this is the law of benefits as between the two
parties; the one must at once forget what he has given, the other must
never forget what he has received.

_III.--On the Receiving of Benefits_

Now, let us cross to the other side, to treat of the behaviour which
becomes men in receiving benefits. "From who are we to receive?" To
answer you briefly, I should say, "From those to whom we should have
liked to give." It is a severe torment to be indebted to anyone against,
your will; on the other hand, it is more delightful to have received a
benefit from one whom you could love even after he has done you a wrong.

The truth is that more care must be taken in the choice of a creditor
for a benefit than for money; for the latter must have back only as much
as I received, but the former must have more paid to him. And even after
repayment of the favour, we nevertheless remain bound to each other.
Thus an unworthy person is not to be admitted into that most sacred bond
of kindnesses bestowed whence friendship arises. "But," it is pleaded,
"I cannot always say 'No.'" Suppose the offer is from a cruel and
hot-tempered despot, who will interpret your rejection of his bounty as
an insult?

Well, when I say you ought to choose, I except superior force and
intimidation; for