And he briefly explained his project for the school, unrolling before the stupefied philosopher plans sent from Manila. "Whom shall I consult first, in the pueblo, whose support will avail me most? You know them all, I am almost a stranger." Old Tasio examined with tearful eyes the drawings before him. "You are going to realize my dream," he said, greatly moved; "the dream of a poor fool. And now the first advice I give you is never to ask advice of me." Ibarra looked at him in surprise. "Because, if you do," he continued with bitter irony, "all sensible people will take you for a fool, too. For all sensible people think those who differ with them fools; they think me one, and I am grateful for it, because the day they see in me a reasonable being woe is me! That day I shall lose the little liberty I now enjoy at the expense of my reputation. The gobernadorcillo passes with them for a wise man because having learned nothing but to serve chocolate and to suffer the caprices of Brother Damaso, he is now rich and has the right to trouble the life of his fellow-citizens. 'There is a man of talent!' says the crowd. 'He has sprung from nothing to greatness.' But perhaps I am really the fool and they are the wise men. Who can say?" And the old man shook his head as though to dismiss an unwelcome thought. "The second thing I advise is to consult the curate, the gobernadorcillo, all the people of position in the pueblo. They will give you bad advice, unintelligible, useless. But to ask advice is not to follow it. All you need is to make it understood that you are working in accordance with their ideas." Ibarra reflected, then replied: "No doubt your counsel is good, but it is very hard to take. May I not offer my own ideas to the light of day? Cannot the good make its way anywhere? Has truth need of the dross of error?" "No one likes the naked truth," replied the old man. "It is good in theory, easy in the ideal world of which youth dreams. You say you are a stranger to your country; I believe it. The day that you arrived here, you began by wounding the self-esteem of a priest. God grant this seemingly small thing has not decided your future. If it has, all your efforts will break against the convent walls, without disturbing the monk, swaying his girdle, or making his robe tremble. The alcalde, under one pretext or another, will deny you to-morrow what he grants you to-day; not a mother will let her child go to your school, and the result of all your efforts will be simply negative." "I cannot help feeling your fears exaggerated," said Ibarra. "In spite of all you say, I cannot believe in this power; but even admitting it to be so great, the most intelligent of the people would be on my side, and also the Government, which is animated by the best intentions, and wishes the veritable good of the Philippines."