And now, with your permission, I will approach the subject of that
stolen fire, of which we hear so much. I have a question to ask, which
I beg you will answer frankly. Has there been one spark less fire in
Heaven, since men shared it with us? Of course not. It is the nature
of fire, that it does not become less by being imparted to others. A
fire is not put out by kindling another from it. No, this is sheer
envy: you cannot bear that men should have a share of this necessary,
though you have suffered no harm thereby. For shame! Gods should be
beneficent, 'givers of good'; they should be above all envy. Had I
taken away fire altogether, and left not a spark behind, it would have
been no great loss. You have no use for it. You are never cold; you
need no artificial light; nor is ambrosia improved by boiling. To man,
on the other hand, fire is indispensable for many purposes,
particularly for those of sacrifice; how else are they to fill their
streets with the savour of burnt-offerings, and the fumes of
frankincense I how else to burn fat thigh-pieces upon your altars? I
observe that you take a particular pleasure in the steam arising
therefrom, and think no feast more delicious than the smell of roast
meat, as it mounts heavenwards

In eddying clouds of smoke.

Your present complaint, you see, is sadly at variance with this taste.
I wonder you do not forbid the Sun to shine on mankind. He too is of
fire, and fire of a purer and diviner quality. Has anything been said
to _him_ about his lavish expenditure of your property?

And now I have done. If there is any flaw in my defence, it is for you
two to refute me. I shall answer your objections in due course.