"I used to live over in Edgerly," Max continued, ignoring the doctor's silence, "over in Christian Edgerly. I had, I think, the heart of a man in me, yet I was a villain--you know what I was--I ought to have been shot, shot like a cur--yet Edgerly favored me, sought and pampered me. But now that I have put my hand to an honest work--to help the needy, to feed and clothe the poor--the good old town has at least every other day a new motive, each more sinister than the other, to impute to my actions." He sprang to his feet and walked the length of the porch and back. "Eldrige," he said, "I had thought never to impose on your friendship by bringing up the past; but I feel to-night as though I may break my good resolutions."
"Do not be afraid of imposing on my friendship, Max; speak of the past as freely as you like. You know me--we know each other."
"You know my temperament, Eldrige; I have always been a devil of a fellow when aroused; and the attitude of those good people over there beyond the hill arouses me a bit. There is a little woman here on the Flat that chides me for this attitude, and tells me that I am wasting good strength fighting windmills. But I have not arrived at a place where I can view other people's unaccountable conduct and shortcomings in the calm, unruffled manner in which Mrs. Thorpe views them."
"I find no difficulty in seeing Mrs. Thorpe's viewpoint, Max. She proves by her daily life and work that she is a follower of the one perfect Man; she heals the sick and reforms the sinner through her understanding of the Divine Law. This, to me, seems simple and natural, and she allows nothing to fret or trouble her. But I am going to be perfectly frank with you, and tell you that I cannot so readily understand your attitude. I think I have never deluded myself into believing that I understand you, Max; a man who has it in him to do the work that you are doing here on this Flat, aroused by adverse criticism--why man--"
"There, Eldrige, stop, please! I thought you understood me better than that. Why, man, criticism tones me up--puts me in good working order; antagonism exhilarates me, persecution inspires me. But what of those who criticise, antagonize and persecute? There's the rub--that's what arouses me. Why should professing Christian people hold up their hands and shout themselves hoarse because some fellow does an act of kindness to his fellow men? It's not criticism that I care for, but it does arouse the very devil in me to see Christian people stand in wide-eyed, open-mouthed astonishment before a Christian deed. You see, I have not the religion that Mrs. Thorpe has; in fact, I am not at all sure that I have any religion whatever. I think it possible, and I may say that I really hope it possible that I may some day come into the scientific understanding of life that Mrs. Thorpe has attained; but at present I am trying only to do the square thing by my fellow men."
The doctor looked him over deliberately.
"If ever I am able to understand the man you are, Max, I think it will be when I am a better man myself than I am now. You may not call yourself a religious man, but there is a force back of your life, a force of some kind that I did not know that the universe contained; there is some secret here that I have not been able to find out."
"I don't agree with you there, Eldrige; there's no secret about it, there's nothing hidden nor concealed; all is open and clear as the sun in mid-heaven. The trouble is our eyes are holden, we are blind and dumb and dead--I wish I could make you see things from my viewpoint--there are a thousand things I would tell you if I could."
Max was not looking at the doctor now; his eyes were far away upon the distant horizon. "I would tell you something of the influence of my early bringing up," he said, "a pampered child of wealth; something of the force of Christianity, as it was taught and lived in my home; something of the time when I passed from boyhood to manhood, idle, with more money than I could spend--honestly; something of the day when I first looked into the eyes of the woman I love--innocent, beseeching--"
He arose again and walked back and forth across the porch.