"Then one ought not to look into the question?"
"Look into it as an abstract question, if you like; but don't try to judge. Leave individual cases alone. The matter is in wiser and more loving Hands than ours . . . And be very sure of one thing—that no lawful excuse exists for Barclay, which will not, by-and-by, be taken into account. Every possible excuse will be made—every difficult circumstance and hardening influence will be allowed for. He will not be expected to have done what he could not do; but only to have done what he could do;—heredity, training, weak will, and aught else, fully considered . . . Do you really think that HE Who made the man doesn't know and understand all this far better than you and I can do? Be reasonable, Jean!"
Jean's "Thank you!" was full of thought.
"Nothing is easier than to get into a tangle of perplexity—looking through our limited peep-holes. You may dwell upon heredity, and all that it entails, until you look upon a man as a mere agglomeration of inherited molecules, unable to move hand or foot, voice or will, except in obedience to inherited proclivities. Or you may dwell upon training and its results, until you look upon a man as a mere lump of dough, pounded and rolled into a permanent shape, from which he can never depart. But these are one-sided views. Heredity has enormous influence. Training has immense power. Nevertheless, through all, a man's will is free; and for his actions, he is and must be accountable . . . After all, few men are ready to carry out these pretty theories to their legitimate end. If a thief comes, and makes away with the plate, we don't say pityingly, 'Poor fellow! He can't help it! He was obliged to act so! All the result of the bias he has inherited from his father, and the want of a sufficient inducement to be honest!' We treat him like a rational being, with a will of his own, and clap him into prison. Thereby, no doubt, supplying an inducement for the future."
Jem was glad to have made Jean laugh.
"Follow out that line of thought for yourself," he said, rising. "Now, it is unsociable to run away so soon; but don't you think I had better meet your father?"
"O Jem! Will you? How kind!"
"We shall soon be back, I dare say." As Jem was putting on his great-coat, he said with rather an odd intonation—
"Cyril seems greatly taken with these Lucases! Is it—the father—the mother—or—?"
"I don't know," Jean answered, startled less by the question than by a sudden pulse of feeling through her own frame. "I have not called yet."