“Will you, then,” you ask, “neither give counsel to an ungrateful man when he is perplexed, nor permit him to have a drink of water, nor point out the path to him if he has lost his way? Or will you do all these services, and yet not be making a gift?” Here I shall draw a distinction, or at least endeavor to do so. A benefit is a useful service, but not every useful service is a benefit; for some services are too small to have the right to be called benefits. In order to produce a benefit, there must be a combination of two conditions. The first is the importance of the service; for there are some that fall short of the dignity of the claim. Who ever called a morsel of bread a benefit, or tossing anyone a copper, or enabling, him to get a light? And sometimes these are more helpful than very large gifts; yet, for all that, their cheapness detracts from their value even when the necessity of the moment has made them necessities. A second condition, which is most important, that must supplement the other, is that the motive of my action must be the interest of the one for whom the benefit is destined, that I should deem him worthy of it, should bestow it willingly and derive pleasure from my gift; but none of those services of which we were just speaking bears any of these marks, for we bestow them, not with the thought that the recipients are worthy, but carelessly and as mere trifles, and our gift is made, not so much to a man, as to humanity.