Like fire, it serves those who know its uses to the noblest ends, but in the hands of children--and the people, the mob, can never ripen into manhood--it is a destroying brand, raging and unextinguishable, devouring all around it, and destroying all that has been built and beautified by the past.

And how can we remain the Sages and continue to develop and absorb all learning within the shelter of our temples, not only without endangering the weak, but for their benefit?
You know and have sworn to act after that knowledge.

To bind the crowd to the faith and the institutions of the fathers is your duty--is the duty of every priest.

Times have changed, my son; under the old kings the fire, of which I spoke figuratively to you--the poet--was enclosed in brazen walls which the people passed stupidly by.

Now I see breaches in the old fortifications; the eyes of the uninitiated have been sharpened, and one tells the other what he fancies he has spied, though half-blinded, through the glowing rifts." A slight emotion had given energy to the tones of the speaker, and while he held the poet spell-bound with his piercing glance he continued: "We curse and expel any one of the initiated who enlarges these breaches; we punish even the friend who idly neglects to repair and close them with beaten brass!" "My father!" cried Pentaur, raising his head in astonishment while the blood mounted to his cheeks.