or violently extinguishing
it, but not supplying it with nourishment, like a useless beast, that
they might not feed it to no purpose.

Lucius, Florus's son, subjoined, that all the rest of the discourse was
very good, but that they did not reverence and take care of this holy
fire because they thought it better or more venerable than other fire;
but, as amongst the Egyptians some worship the whole species of dogs,
wolves, or crocodiles, yet keep but one wolf, dog, or crocodile (for all
could not be kept), so the particular care which the ancients took of
the sacred fire was only a sign of the respect they had for all fires.
For nothing bears such a resemblance to an animal as fire. It is moved
and nourished by itself, and by its brightness, like the soul, discovers
and makes everything apparent; but in its quenching it principally shows
some power that seems to proceed from our vital principle, for it makes
a noise and resists, like an animal dying or violently slaughtered. And
can you (looking upon me) offer any better reason?

I can find fault, replied I, with no part of the discourse, yet I would
subjoin, that this custom is an instruction for kindness and good-will.
For it is not lawful for any one that hath eaten sufficiently to
destroy the remainder of the food; nor for him that hath supplied his
necessities from the fountain to stop it up; nor for him that hath made
use of any marks, either by sea or land, to ruin or deface them; but
every one ought to leave those things that may be useful to those
persons that afterwards may have need of them. Therefore it is not fit,
out of a saving covetous humor, to put out a lamp as soon as we need it
not; but we ought to preserve and let it burn for the use of those that
perhaps want its light. Thus, it would be very generous to lend our ears
and eyes, nay, if possible, our reason and understanding, to others,
whilst we are idle or asleep. Besides, consider whether to stir up men
to gratitude these minute observances were practised. The ancients
did not act absurdly when they highly reverenced an oak. The Athenians
called one fig-tree sacred, and forbade any one to cut down an
olive. For such observances do not (as some fancy) make men prone to
superstition, but persuade us to be communicative and grateful to one
another, by being accustomed to pay this respect to these senseless and
inanimate creatures. Upon the same reason Hesiod, methinks, adviseth
well, who would not