=Illustrations.=—­It is possible, therefore, so to furnish the mind that it can enjoy freedom in spite of any bondage to which the body may be subjected.  Indeed, the whole process of education has as its large objective the freedom of the mind and spirit.  Knowledge of truth gives freedom; ignorance of truth is bondage.  A man’s knowledge may be measured by the extent of his freedom; his ignorance, by the extent of his bondage.  In the presence of truth the man who knows stands free and unabashed, while the man who does not know stands baffled and embarrassed.  In a chemical laboratory the man who knows chemistry moves about with ease and freedom, while the man who does not know chemistry stands fixed in one spot, fearing to move lest he may cause an explosion.  To the man who knows astronomy the sky at night presents a marvelous panorama full of interest and inspiration, to the man who is ignorant of astronomy the same sky is merely a dome studded with dots of light.

=Rome.=—­The man who lacks knowledge of history is utterly bewildered and ill at ease in the Capitoline Museum at Rome.  All about him are busts that represent the men who made Roman history, but they have no meaning for him.  Nero and Julius Caesar are mere names to him and, as such, bear no relation to life.  Cicero and Caligula might exchange places and it would be all one to him.  He takes a fleeting glance at the statue of the Dying Gaul, but it conveys no meaning to him.  He has neither read nor heard of Byron’s poem which this statue inspired.  He sees near by the celebrated Marble Faun, but he has not read Hawthorne’s romance and therefore the statue evokes no interest.  In short, he is bored and uncomfortable, and importunes his companions to go elsewhere.

When he looks out upon the Forum he says it looks the same to him as any other stone quarry, and he roundly berates the shiftlessness of the Romans in permitting the Coliseum to remain when the stone could be used for building purposes, for bridges, and for paving.  The Tiber impresses him not at all for, as he says, he has seen much larger rivers and, certainly, many whose water is more clear.  In the Sistine Chapel he cannot be persuaded to give more than a passing glance at the ceiling because it makes his neck ache to look up.  The Laocooen and Apollo Belvedere he will not see, giving as a reason that he is more than tired of looking at silly statuary.  He feels it an imposition that he should be dragged around to such places when he cares nothing for them.  His evident boredom is pathetic, and he repeatedly says that he’d far rather be visiting in the corner grocery back home, than to be spending his time in the Vatican.