“If you admit those defects in your social system,” replied Isagani, “why then do you undertake to regulate alien societies, instead of first devoting your attention to yourselves?”

“We’re getting away from the subject, young man.  The theory in accomplished facts must be accepted.”

“So let it be!  I accept it because it is an accomplished fact, but I will further ask:  why, if your social organization is defective, do you not change it or at least give heed to the cry of those who are injured by it?”

“We’re still far away.  Let’s talk about what the students want from the friars.”

“From the moment when the friars hide themselves behind the government, the students have to turn to it.”

This statement was true and there appeared no means of ignoring it.

“I’m not the government and I can’t answer for its acts.  What do the students wish us to do for them within the limits by which we are confined?”

“Not to oppose the emancipation of education but to favor it.”

The Dominican shook his head.  “Without stating my own opinion, that is asking us to commit suicide,” he said.

“On the contrary, it is asking you for room to pass in order not to trample upon and crush you.”

“Ahem!” coughed Padre Fernandez, stopping and remaining thoughtful.  “Begin by asking something that does not cost so much, something that any one of us can grant without abatement of dignity or privilege, for if we can reach an understanding and dwell in peace, why this hatred, why this distrust?”

“Then let’s get down to details.”

“Yes, because if we disturb the foundation, we’ll bring down the whole edifice.”

“Then let’s get down to details, let’s leave the region of abstract principles,” rejoined Isagani with a smile, “and also without stating my own opinion,”—­the youth accented these words—­“the students would desist from their attitude and soften certain asperities if the professors would try to treat them better than they have up to the present.  That is in their hands.”

“What?” demanded the Dominican.  “Have the students any complaint to make about my conduct?”

“Padre, we agreed from the start not to talk of yourself or of myself, we’re speaking generally.  The students, besides getting no great benefit out of the years spent in the classes, often leave there remnants of their dignity, if not the whole of it.”

Padre Fernandez again bit his lip.  “No one forces them to study—­the fields are uncultivated,” he observed dryly.

“Yes, there is something that impels them to study,” replied Isagani in the same tone, looking the Dominican full in the face.  “Besides the duty of every one to seek his own perfection, there is the desire innate in man to cultivate his intellect, a desire the more powerful here in that it is repressed.  He who gives his gold and his life to the State has the right to require of it opporttmity better to get that gold and better to care for his life.  Yes, Padre, there is something that impels them, and that something is the government itself.  It is you yourselves who pitilessly ridicule the uncultured Indian and deny him his rights, on the ground that he is ignorant.  You strip him and then scoff at his nakedness.”