kindly about his plans. The young man
confesses his ambitions, and the philosopher innocently asks him where
and how he has made his preparatory studies. Alcibiades seems to think
that the ordinary subjects of oratory, such as questions of war and
peace, justice and injustice, need no special knowledge but that
learned of the people.

"I cannot say that I have a high opinion of your teachers," says the
shrewd old philosopher; "you know that knowledge is the first
qualification of any teacher?"

_Alcibiades._ Certainly.

_Socrates._ And if they know, they must agree together and not differ?

_Alcibiades._ Yes.

_Socrates._ And would you say that they knew the things about which
they differ?

_Alcibiades._ No.

_Socrates._ Then how can they teach them?

_Alcibiades._ They cannot.[9]

So little by little, as one question follows another, Alcibiades comes
to see that the popular knowledge upon which he depends is a very weak
and variable thing. He confesses at last his own folly, and declares
his resolution to devote himself to thoughtful study.

[Footnote 9: From Plato's dialogue, _Alcibiades_, Jowett's
translation.]

XIII

THE FLIGHT OF AENEAS

In the series of rooms in the Vatican palace, of which one contains
Parnassus, and another the Expulsion of Heliodorus and the Liberation
of Peter, there is a room, the first of the series, which is called
the Room of the Great Fire, because it contains a large picture of the
Conflagration in the Borgo.

The Borgo is that quarter of Rome where the Vatican stands, and in the
ninth century there was, one day, a great fire there. It was said that
the fire was put out by the Pope of that time, Leo IV., who stood in a
portico connected with the church of St. Peter, and made the sign of
the cross.

Raphael was bidden make a painting upon one wall of the room, which
should represent the scene, and in his characteristic fashion he made
it to be not merely a copy of what he might suppose the scene to have
been; he introduced a poetic element, which at once made the piece a
work of great imagination.

A poet, who was describing such an event, might use an illustration
from some other great historic fire. He might have said in effect: "In
this burning of the Borgo, men could have been seen carrying the aged
away on their shoulders, as when in ancient times Troy was burned,
and AEneas bore his father Anchises away from the falling timbers."

This is exactly wh