We say, therefore, that man is corrupted by a natural depravity. Thus vanishes the foolish and nugatory system of the Manichæans who, having imagined in man a substantial wickedness, presumed to invent for him a new Creator, that they might not appear to assign the cause and origin of evil to a righteous God.
The dour words of the savage old doctrinaire looked up familiarly to David Joslin. More than once alone he had pondered upon the cavilings of the Pelagians, the deeds of the Manichæans, the Celestians, and others who had fallen under the invectives of this stern leader of the past. Once they had seemed adequate to him. That very day they would have seemed adequate to him. But not to-night.
Two years ago he had closed the pages of his own past. Now he knew that he was closing the book upon yet another stage of his own development. Fellowship, understanding, sympathy, the common human struggles! From John Calvin’s interpretation David Joslin turned to an interpretation of his own. He read from larger pages.
The night passed at length. Dawn grayed the dull windows of the saloon front, opaqued that passers-by might not see what went on within. But this dull dawn was the opening of a new horizon to David Joslin. He saw a wider world. He had learned that dogma is not life.
He heard the door open. The owner of the place entered, his usually impassive face curiously turned toward the interior. Joslin walked forward to meet him, on his face now at least the semblance of a smile. John Moran himself smiled, as he looked and saw the untouched glass upon the table.
“Well, friend, you’ve won,” said he. “Here’s your quarter back again.”
Joslin felt in his hand the weight of a gold piece, but he put it back, his lip somewhat trembling. “I thank you,” said he, “but I can’t take it.”
“Don’t you need it?”
“Yes. But I’ll have to finish my own way, I reckon,” said David Joslin. “You see, I’ve been going to school up North here. But now I’ve concluded not to go there any more. No—I don’t need it.”
He smiled now, as he extended his hand with that quality upon his face which brought friends to him so quickly, and held them so staunchly.