“Come, come,” said Father Soledano. “It is not fair. It is not fair to come down from the general to the particular like that.”
“I protest,” answered Serge. “My whole indignation arises from the unkindness and dishonesty of stuffing young people, and ignorant people, with generalisations.”
“What else can you give them? They are not conscious of individuality.”
“I don’t believe that, and even if it were so you ought to leave them free to become conscious—if they can.”
“The risk is too great.”
“What risk?”
Bennett’s mind had been moving swiftly and partly by memory, partly by intuition he came to this:
“People can’t do as they like.”
Serge stood up suddenly and paced round the room.
“Young idiot!” he said. “They can, and they do. Isn’t it your experience, Father, that they do? The trouble is that with all these foolish generalisations buzzing in their heads they are always doing the wrong things, and doing them in the wrong way, shuffling, and sneaking so as to hide away from the bogies you give them.” He turned to Bennett and asked: “Has what you do and think on Sunday the slightest bearing on what you do and think on week-days?”