First, the importance of the thing given; for some things fall
short of the dignity of a benefit. Who ever called a hunch of bread
a benefit, or a farthing dole tossed to a beggar, or the means of
lighting a fire? yet sometimes these are of more value than the
most costly benefits; still their cheapness detracts from their
value even when, by the exigency of time, they are rendered
essential. The next condition, which is the most important of all,
must necessarily be present, namely, that I should confer the
benefit for the sake of him whom I wish to receive it, that I
should judge him worthy of it, bestow it of my own free will, and
receive pleasure from my own gift, none of which conditions are
present in the cases of which we have just now spoken; for we do
not bestow such things as those upon these who are worthy of them,
but we give them carelessly, as trifles, and do not give them so
much to a man as to humanity.

XXX. I shall not deny that sometimes I would give even to the
unworthy, out of respect for others; as, for instance, in
competition for public offices, some of the basest of men are
preferred on account of their noble birth, to industrious men of no
family, and that for good reasons; for the memory of great virtues
is sacred, and more men will take pleasure in being good, if the
respect felt for good men does not cease with their lives. What
made Cicero's son a consul, except his father? What lately brought
Cinna [Footnote: See Seneca on "Clemency," book i., ch. ix.] out of
the camp of the enemy and raised him to the consulate? What made
Sextus Pompeius and the other Pompeii consuls, unless it was the
greatness of one man, who once was raised so high that, by his very
fall, he sufficiently exalted all his relatives. What lately made
Fabius Persicus a member of more than one college of priests,